


a fantasy i never knew i had

by kathoo



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, F/F, Minor Violence, Pre-Canon, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Suicidal Thoughts, This is not Happy, Unhealthy Relationships, ish, the original characters are miu's parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathoo/pseuds/kathoo
Summary: Her parents were fighting. That wasn’t anything new. But this time they locked themselves in their room—which meant that they didn’t want her to know. They didn’t want her to hear. But she could always hear them, and she always knew, and she wasn’t stupid, but at the same time she felt as if she was for letting things ever escalate this far.It didn’t matter what they were fighting about, because it was always the same things. Money. Jobs. Mistakes. The house. Her.She covered her ears with a pillow, because she’d seen people do it on TV, and it always seemed to work. But it never did for her. She could still hear their angry, bitter voices loud and clear.She would do anything to escape this..Miu Iruma joins Danganronpa. But before that, she meets a girl.





	a fantasy i never knew i had

Miu had always dreamed of being valedictorian when she was younger. The idea of rising above, the idea of her peers relying on her, the idea of being _useful_ … it had always been her life goal. It was almost ironic how far off from her dream she ended up landing.

Her teacher hadn't said anything at all when she passed Miu her test, but the disappointed look in her eye said enough about what she'd gotten.

A big red F marked the front page of her test

Sometimes she wondered if the reason she got low scores was because she didn't study enough. But that wasn't the case—Miu had spent the entirety of the previous night all over her textbooks. Not a paragraph went unread.

It was because nothing stuck to her. She could read every word, but it wasn't truly processing within her. And she didn't know _why_. She didn't know why she was a failure, and she didn't know why she couldn't do anything correctly, and she didn't know why she screwed everything up. It was just who she was. The disgusting, horrifying thing that she was.

“See me after class,” her teacher whispered to her, before turning to the boy beside her. Gonta Gokuhara—an honorary student. “Another high grade, Gokuhara. You continue to show exemplary behavior.”

Gonta only nodded, not saying a word. He never did. People.

Miu continued to look at the grade marking her paper, and she could feel tears swell from within her. It wasn't _fair_. She was giving it her all. All she wanted was just _one_ success. Was something so simple truly so much to ask? She’d been told that she would be rewarded in life for giving it her all, but that didn’t seem to be the case so far. It seemed as if it was just another lie created by adults in order to motivate her.

Miu didn't even notice when class was dismissed due to how caught up in her own thoughts she was. She tended to space off often—another factor to her chain of failures. She did realize, however, when her teacher cleared her breath far louder than what was most likely necessary.

Her teacher was sitting at her desk with one student beside her—Kaede Akamatsu. Her teacher beckoned her over, and Miu hastily rose from her seat. The sweat in her palms was bothering her more than usual, but she had to ignore it for now. It didn't matter right now.

“I'm sure both of you know why you're here,” her teacher spoke. “Both of you haven't been performing very well. I don't know what the problem really is, but remember I'm here after classes if you need extra help. Don't make a mistake by deciding that you don't need some help if you really do.”

“I understand,” Miu responded, bowing her head in the slightest. Kaede only scoffed.

“Do you have something to say, Akamatsu?” her teacher asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Nothing at all,” Kaede said with much more emphasis than necessary. Despite her blatant show of disrespect, the teacher didn't seem to care.

“Go to your classes,” her teacher dismissed, waving them off.

Miu closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She'd be fine. It would all be alright. She would do something about this entire thing, and she'd begin to do well. Like she used to.

A long, long time ago.

Once they were outside of the classroom, Miu became hyper aware of Kaede’s presence. Miu turned to make an attempt at conversation, but Kaede walked off before she could say a single thing. She could feel whatever confidence she'd had in herself for even just the slightest moment fade away.

She shook her head. Life wasn't easy.

 

.

 

Surprisingly, her parents weren't screaming at each other when she got home. Maybe it was a small bit of luck that she was allowed to have today. She doubted this would happen again for the next few weeks.

“I’m home,” she called as soon as she walked through the doors, setting her bag down on the ground. It wasn't like she'd be picking it up again soon. She just… couldn't.

There was no response. Miu wasn't too worried about it. Sometimes after a fight her parents would lock themselves in separate rooms and forcibly avoid each other for the rest of the day; they probably didn't hear her. She was just happy that she'd been away for the worst of it.

She made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a hair tie from the drawer under the microwave. It was a simple black hair tie, yet whenever Miu wore a ponytail she felt like an entirely different person. Like she didn't need to use her long hair to hide her face from anyone else.

The wooden stairs creaked as she walked up them. It didn't bother her all that much, but she didn't like it when she was trying to sneak food up to her room late in the night. Then again, her parents were always busy doing anything _but_ paying attention to her to notice. It wasn't such a bad thing, though. She'd heard stories of parents who would bring their children into every fight—and Miu would much rather be alone than be caught in the eye of the storm.

Miu opened the door to her room with a steady hand. Her room was dull, but that was alright. She knew that if she asked her parents if she could decorate it they'd forget all about it in a few days, anyway.

Her bookshelf was full and books were plentiful. She had plenty of resources. Maybe if she was like anyone else she'd have the potential to be intelligent. She didn't, though, and she doubted she'd ever know why. She'd never be able to know why she was this useless.

Miu picked up a book and read about math lessons she'd forget tomorrow morning.

 

.

 

“Miu, honey,” her mother said, cupping her face lovingly. _Lovingly? Does she really love me? Or am I just a tool that she can use to get back at Dad with? Does she care about_ me _, or what I can do?_ “We’re dangerously low on money. Because of a certain someone, of course.”

And there it was. Not one conversation could be had without bringing her father into it, of course. Not a single one.

“What are we going to do?” Miu whispered, feeling her eyes sting. She didn't want to move. Not again.

“I don't know,” her mother admitted, pulling her close. “I don't know.”

 _What am I thinking? Of course she loves me. All parents love their children. I’m just dramatic. I’m the disloyal one for ever believing she didn't love me,_ she told herself, clenching her fists. What a deplorable human being she was. She didn't deserve to have a mother who loved her so much.

They continued hugging for a good minute or so, warmth against warmth. Her mother’s chin was digging in painfully to her shoulder, but she didn't care. What was such a trivial problem when compared to their financial situation?

It was almost peaceful until her father walked in. “What _lies_ are you telling her, Yui?”

Miu’s  mother detached herself from Miu, and stood up to glare at her father. “I wouldn't dare lie to Miu, unlike you. You're the reason we’re here right now! You gambled away our money, and this is where we are. Instead of apologizing to your only child you stand there in your own arrogance!”

“Arrogance?” her father echoed. “I’m not the one who put us in this situation. _You_ lost your job! I make money for this family on my own, and yet you have the audacity to blame this on me?”

“The companies merged, Ren!” her mother yelled, hands at her side. Her voice sounded broken and upset. “It wasn't my fault! How long are you going to blame me for this?”

Her father shook his head, his dull amber eyes settling their gaze on her mother. Miu felt her heart drop into her chest. She knew what was about to come. “When two companies merge, who do you think they let go of first? The competent workers, or the ones who aren't good at their job?”

There was a deadly silence. And then, “Are you saying I performed poorly? Are you saying that after being with that company for over six years, I wasn't doing my job _well_?”

Miu felt her head ache from the sharp noises. She wanted to tell them to stop, but that wouldn't do any good. The only way to fix things was to provide a solution for the situation.

And so she did.

“I’ll get a job,” she interjected. “I’m old enough. I won't be able to make a lot, but it'll help, right…?”

“And where exactly are you going to get a job?” her mother questioned, crossing her arms. “You don't have to do this. Don't waste your teenage years at a job because your father can't provide for you. I’ll figure something out.”

“I’m always the villain, aren't I?” her father demanded. The look of fury in his eyes was so strong for a split second that she was afraid he would do something about his anger. She remembered there was a kid in her grade—Maki Harukawa. There were rumors of her father, Touma Harukawa, a well-known businessman, being abusive. There was never evidence to support the rumors, but… it happened to people. Who was to say that things would be different for Miu?

Her mother looked equally as furious, though. Maybe they would both end up hurting each other. Maybe they were _both_ the villain. “That’s because you are!”

“The ice cream shop!” Miu shouted, diverting both of their attention towards her. “There's an ice cream shop nearby, and they're hiring. I’ll get interviewed, and hopefully I’ll… get in.”

Her mother frowned. “Are you sure that you want this job?”

“Yes,” she said with a note of finality, “I am.”

She really didn't want the job. She was failing almost every core class, and she couldn't afford to waste the time she had to study, but… she would do anything to help. Even if it was a minuscule contribution, she'd do it.

Besides, it's not like things would get better even if she studied. Nothing would change. Nothing ever did.

 

.

 

Another F.

The mark was in pink pen this time. “My red pen lost all its ink,” her teacher had told the class, “and I was feeling tired, so I just used pink. I think it brightens up the paper, don't you?”

The class had laughed.

But not Miu.

It was a bit better, though. The color red had always dug salt into the wound when it was on her test paper. The color of blood marking her failures didn't sit very well with her—it had always made her feel queasy.

“I’m on a roll,” she heard a student near her say. “I’ve been doing really good this year!”

“Tch, sure,” another person scoffed, “this was like, the easiest test we've gotten all semester. Everyone aced it.”

“Not everyone.” Miu’s blood ran cold. Were they talking about her? Did they know? Had people been gossiping about her without Miu herself even knowing? “You know Akamatsu? I heard she's failing every single class. People are saying she hasn't gotten a good grade on an assessment all year.”

Miu felt relieved, and then she felt terrible for it. _I’m being insensitive about someone else's problems_ , she told herself. _What would Mom think?_

“You shouldn't believe everything people tell you,” the other person scolded, annoyance evident in their voice. “The teacher’s glaring at us, be quiet!”

Kaede was the first person to leave once class was over. She didn't seem upset, she didn't seem content, and she didn't seem… _anything_ , really. Her face was blank, as if she simply didn't care.

That afternoon, Miu envied a girl that she didn't even know.

 

.

 

When Miu was on her first shift, she realized how completely unprepared for this she was. She'd blew through the interview with ease, but… she wasn't very competent. She was rather slow with ice cream. What if someone yelled at her on her first day?

 _I shouldn't have done this_ , she thought. _I’m going to mess this up. I always do._

“Welcome,” the manager said to her, smiling. “I’m glad that you took this job. Not many teeenagers bother to work anymore, really. Plenty buy ice cream here, but it's like making the ice cream is foreign to them, you know?”

The manager’s long red hair fell nicely on her shoulders, and Miu was instantly entranced with its vibrant color. She was… gorgeous. And probably way older than Miu.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“Call me Yena,” the manager told her, smiling. “Oh, I should introduce you to who you'll be working with most often on your shifts. Kaede!”

Yena turned to look at a blonde who was currently on her phone, scrolling away at something. The blonde looked up to raise an eyebrow. “What?”

Yena rolled her eyes. “What you mean what? I told you yesterday, there's someone new that'll be working here. This is Miu Iruma.” Yena gestured to Miu.

_That’s… Kaede?_

Kaede’s dull purple eyes met Miu’s. Kaede looked her up and down for one moment before shrugging her off. “Cool.”

Seeing Kaede in a work uniform was strange. The fabric was tight and hugged her curves, not to mention her… _breast_ s. Miu tried—she really, really tried not to stare, but… it was distracting. Miu herself wasn't anything special. Her breasts were present, but not nearly as noticeable as Kaede’s. And now, for some odd reason, she was contemplating breasts.

Yena sighed. “We’re almost opening up. Turn your phone off.”

Kaede complied wordlessly, slipping her phone into her back pocket. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Miu walked into her workspace, prepared to scoop ice cream all day long. She had so many things that she probably should be doing, but… she would do anything for her parents.

“We go to the same school,” Miu said, her voice shaking a bit. She adjusted her hair a bit so that it would cover more of her face.

Kaede finally looked her way, giving her a blank stare. “Interesting."

An awkward silence fell over them until Miu continued, “How long have you been working here?”

“A few months,” Kaede replied, voice monotone. “I didn't decide to come here on my own. It was my parents’ idea.”

“Oh,” Miu murmured, “my situation is—”

“I don't care.”

“W-What?”

“I said I don't care,” Kaede repeated, narrowing her eyes. “You asked a question, and I answered it. That doesn't mean that I’m interested in conversing with you.”

Miu was stunned into silence. Had… had she done something?

Just then, Yena walked back into the room, her heels clicking against the tile floor. It was almost a soothing sound to hear. “It’s opening time, girls. Good luck, Iruma. You’ll do great today.” Yena flashed her a quick smile—one that melted right through her heart. No one had ever looked at her in such a… _supportive_ way. Were there really people out there that would befriend people without a second thought? People like Yena?

“Thank you,” Miu said in a voice that probably wasn't loud enough for Yena to hear. But, even with Yena’s kindness, Kaede’s words stung. _I always manage to mess things up. She hates me, doesn’t she? She probably hated me the second I walked in the door. I’m disgusting._

Once Yena was out of sight, though, Kaede took her phone back out of her pocket almost immediately.

Miu gulped. Should she say something about it? It was the right thing to do, but… she didn’t want Kaede to hate her anymore than she probably already did. What if Kaede yelled at her? She couldn’t take more yelling in her life.

“What are you staring at?” Kaede gritted after Miu had been contemplating things for a few minutes.

Suddenly put on the spot, Miu sputtered, “I—well… it’s nothing.”

Kaede sighed, not looking away from her phone screen. “Stop shaking like that. I can feel it from all the way over here.”

Miu froze. “S-Sorry…”

An hour passed by, and they hadn’t had many customers. It made sense, considering that it was so early in the morning, but Miu would love to have something to distract her from Kaede. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong with herself. If there wasn’t, then why would Kaede act like she did despite barely knowing her? Miu could barely even talk to Kaede now.

“Hey,” Kaede broke the silence. Miu flinched in her spot, not expecting it. “You seem boring, but… do you know what Danganronpa is?”

Miu blinked. “Huh?”

Kaede finally tore her eyes away from her phone, a shocked expression on her face. “… you _don’t_ know what Danganronpa is?”  
  
Miu shifted in her spot. “Um, no.... Is that some kind of book series?”

Kaede was silent for a long moment. And then she broke into a long, deep laughter that vaguely reminded her of what bells sounded like. It was a beautiful laugh. And, her smile… it was gorgeous. _If only she did it more._ “A _book_ series… you’re funny.”

“I don’t understand,” Miu admitted, keenly aware that Kaede might be making fun of her. Was she?

“I’m sure you don’t,” Kaede agreed, turning her phone off and placing it on the counter. There was a gleam in her eyes—something that lightly resembled… excitement? Was that it? Either way, the slight upturn of her lips into a smirk unsettled Miu. “It’s a TV series. Hah, I’ve never met someone so… _untainted_. Everyone knows about Danganronpa. Are you sheltered? Oh, do you not have any friends?”

Miu felt her breath hitch. Finally, she said, “I just don’t watch TV that much.” It was a distraction, and that was all that Miu needed at the moment.

“Hm,” Kaede murmured, “alright. Oh… are you poor? Can you not afford a TV?”  
  
Miu didn’t respond, and Kaede laughed again. “Don’t mind that. I’m just trying to mimic a Danganronpa protagonist. They love to ask questions—it’s fascinating.”

“You like it a lot, don’t you?” Miu asked, feeling a tinge of fear swell inside her. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to get involved with someone so… obsessed.

“I love it,” Kaede answered. “Do you want to know the thing about people in real life? They have no potential. Carrying on, day by day, like their bound by chains… they’re all the same, boring people inside. But Danganronpa isn’t real—it’s fiction, but it _feels_ real. So real that I can almost pretend that the exciting, hopeful people there are what we have here, in the dull world.”  
  
Miu was stunned into silence once more, and Kaede asked, “Iruma, do you believe in people?”

“Of course,” Miu insisted, shocked that she was asked a question like that. “Don’t you?”

Kaede gave her a blank look. A bored look. “Nevermind. For a moment there I thought that you might be worthwhile, but… you’re just like everyone else, aren’t you? This is why I don’t believe in people.”  
  
In the two hours Miu had known Kaede, she knew that she had make a huge mistake. “I-I’m not, I swear! I… what _is_ Danganronpa? Y-You can’t decide whether I’m worth or not until you at least let me know that.”

Kaede seemed to consider it for a moment. “You’re desperate, aren’t you? For someone to spend time with you. Do you want me to take pity on you? Do you want me to tell you that you seem like a nice person?”

Miu gulped.

“I don’t do those things,” Kaede told her, “and I don’t bother with kind lies.”

 _I want to leave_ , Miu thought. _I don’t want to work here in a place like this. I don’t want to work with Kaede. I can’t. I can’t do this._

“O-Okay,” Miu stuttered out.

“But,” Kaede continued, “while you look boring inside and out, I’d be lying if I wasn’t interested in seeing your reaction to Danganronpa. You look so innocent, do you know that? You give off that vibe.” It might have just been the lighting, but Kaede’s eyes seemed to shine. “That’ll just make it so much better.”

Miu didn’t know what Danganronpa was. She remembered hearing the name in the past, but her parents had always instructed her to stay away from it. It had to be bad. And if Kaede said that it would be fun to watch her reaction because she was innocent, then that meant that the show wasn’t innocent at all. _What could it be?_

“I-It isn’t… porn, is it?”  
  
It was definitely the first thing that came to mind.

Kaede’s cheeks flushed red. “W-Wh— _no_ , it’s not porn!”  
  
“D-Don’t be so vague!” Miu defended herself, flushed. Embarrassment filled her for bringing the idea up, but it wasn’t her fault that Kaede decided to word it like that. Why were things like this?

“What are you, some kind of pervert?” Kaede accused. “Do you _want_ to see porn? Nevermind. Maybe you’re not so innocent, after all.”  
  
“Of course I don’t!” Miu sputtered. “I just wanted to know what Danganronpa even is if it’s supposed to be the opposite of innocent!”

Kaede brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “If you really want to know, then I’ll show you. But don’t think that we’re friends. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

That was freakishly ominous. If Miu hadn’t been so desperate to reach out to someone, she might’ve said something other than, “Okay.” But she was. She always, always was.

Miu wished she had known that this encounter would be what practically sealed her fate.

 

.

 

When Kaede turned the TV on, she didn’t say anything. She was completely silent for a long while, until she said, “Let’s start with season one. It’s the first one, and the best in my opinion.”  
  
“And your parents are okay that I’m here?” Miu asked, fidgeting a bit. She wanted to go home, but at the same time she wanted anything but to go back there.

Kaede scowled. “Who cares? Just pay attention.”

And so she did. The premise seemed interesting enough—the idea of a place like Hope’s Peak Academy was exciting. This seemed innocent enough. Makoto was going to attend Hope’s Peak, right? And it would be a show about making it through the tribulations of high school while simultaneously juggling a talent. She’d heard of things similar to this before. It was supposed to be family friendly.

She was wrong.

When Monokuma announced the killing game, Miu said, “But they’re going to escape, right?”

Kaede’s lips turned up just the slightest bit. The TV reflected in her eyes. “Just watch.”

And so Miu did. She watched through as everything unfolded wordlessly. Sayaka’s death was predictable, to say the least. But even so, Miu murmured, “I liked her.”

“I _love_ her,” Kaede spoke with a passion. “She seems so innocent and kind, and yet…. Oh, nevermind that. I don’t want to spoil it for you.”

Sayaka’s dead body on ground filled Miu with a sick feeling. It was only a TV show, but… it felt so real. To think that in real life there were girls like her—bright, full of potential, cheerful—who were murdered… it was an awful thought. _It’s only fiction_ , she reminded herself, _calm down._

“This acting is really good,” Miu commented offhandedly. “It feels very… genuine. They managed to find great actors.”  
  
Kaede smiled at her—a smile that felt very, very wrong. “These aren’t actors, Iruma-san.”

Miu gave an awkward, forced laugh. “Ah. Okay.” Kaede’s sense of humor was… strange, to say the least. She’d never met anyone quite like her. Miu found most of her “jokes” distasteful, but Miu was the weird one, so who was she to call anything Kaede did odd?

“You think I’m kidding, don’t you?” Kaede questioned. “Lying is a waste of time, so I don’t do it. These are people who volunteer to be in a real killing game. Maizono? She’s dead. Well, Sayaka Maizono is a fictional character, but the person whose body she stole is very dead.”

“I don’t understand,” Miu whispered.

“They erase your memories,” Kaede explained, as if it was nothing. “They erase your personality. They change you. For example, if you were to become a part of the show, you wouldn’t be you. You would be an entirely new person. You’d be _better_. And there’s a high chance that you’d end up dead.”  
  
“S-So they’re really dead…?”

“Dead as Maizono,” Kaede replied.

People volunteered… to die? Why would anyone ever do that? Why would they throw everything away when they had so much potential? Was there prize money? Did they crave fame? Did they just… not care? _What about the people around them? Are they unable to intervene? Do they have to watch their loved ones die on TV?_

Miu was more silent than usual the rest of the afternoon.

 

.

 

Her parents were fighting. That wasn’t anything new. But this time they locked themselves in their room—which meant that they didn’t want her to know. They didn’t want her to hear. But she could always hear them, and she always knew, and she wasn’t _stupid_ , but at the same time she felt as if she was for letting things ever escalate this far.

It didn’t matter what they were fighting about, because it was always the same things. Money. Jobs. Mistakes. The house. Her.

She covered her ears with a pillow, because she’d seen people do it on TV, and it always seemed to work. But it never did for her. She could still hear their angry, bitter voices loud and clear.

She would do anything to escape this.

“Will you be quiet?!” her mother’s muffled voice yelled. Miu flinched in her spot. She just wanted one day of silence. It felt like her own home was a battlefield.

“Our marriage was the worst mistake I’ve ever made,” her father hissed, just loud enough for Miu to hear.

“Then _end it_!” her mother screamed.

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

Her eyes were wet, but she held in her tears to the best of her ability. She hated it when she cried. She hated it because it made her feel so _useless_. In the end, she amounted to nothing. She needed something to distract her. Anything.

Her mind flickered back to Danganronpa. She and Kaede had stopped watching halfway through the first trial, just as things were beginning to heat up. She knew that a show about people dying was wrong. She knew that it was bad. But… if everybody watched it, and if everybody knew it, then for once in her life, why shouldn’t she be like everyone else?

She silently crept downstairs and turned the TV on. She made sure to leave it at a low volume.

Leon’s death was harsh and unforgettable, but Miu found herself feeling just the smallest twinge of excitement as the baseballs hit his body at lightning speed.

 

.

 

Instead of ignoring her immediately and acting cold like Miu expected, the second that Miu walked through the door of the ice cream shop, Kaede looked up at her and put her phone away. It almost felt as if Kaede had been waiting for her.

“So,” Kaede began as Miu slipped behind the counter, “did you watch any more Danganronpa?”  
  
“I’m just past Fujisaki’s death,” Miu replied. “I didn’t think that I would enjoy this, but… I feel a rush of excitement every time a death occurs. It’s the feeling I get when I know that something entertaining is about to happen.”  
  
“People are so boring,” Kaede said, “but you seem so much more interesting. I wonder why.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in people?” Miu asked.

“I don’t,” Kaede answered. “I never have, and I never will. Just because you’re interesting doesn’t mean I believe in you. I know that both of us are probably going to end up the same way—dead. I just think that it’ll be in very different ways.”

“E-Everybody dies,” Miu stuttered.

“I mean that we’re gonna die young,” Kaede said. “We’re both failing, aren’t we? You’re probably going to end up at some dead end job and develop some drug addiction. If you don’t die from that, I suspect you’ll probably end up in a car crash.”

Miu flushed. _Does she… really think so little of me?_

“What about you, then?” Miu questioned. “How are you going to die?”

Kaede was silent. And then, “Let’s watch the second trial together, later.”

 

.

 

“The blackened killed two people?” Miu whispered, disbelief lacing her voice. “But… that’s so many at once…”  
  
“It happens,” Kaede answered. “It’s getting late. I didn’t think we’d watch so much. Aren’t you going to go home or something?”  
  
Miu was going to say yes, but… memories of the previous night flashed in her mind. Memories of her parents being at each other’s throats. Memories of endless shouting. Memories of a sleepless night. In that moment, she realized that she’d much rather be anywhere else than home.

“Can I stay the night?” Miu asked. “I’ll just text my parents. They won’t mind.” _They probably won’t notice._

Kaede frowned. “I don’t like having people over at all, usually, let alone overnight, but… I suppose I can make an exception. You’re decently not boring. Besides, I want to see your reaction to the blackened.”

Kaede’s house was too well air-conditioned, so they huddled for warmth that night.

 

.

 

“Iruma,” her teacher said, frowning. It was after class again, and she’d been called to stay. Again. “Nothing is improving.”  
  
“I know,” Miu murmured. “I’m trying, I’m trying _so hard,_  but I…”  
  
“I know that you’re trying,” her teacher told her. “I can see it. And that’s what makes me so upset. You’re a good student, and you give it your all, and yet nothing is working. I’m trying to find a solution, but…”

Was that it, then? She couldn't do it? She’d failed?

That’s what she always did. Fail. That was what an F stood for, after all.

“Alright,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

“The year isn’t over,” her teacher urged, “there’s still time, Iruma.”  
  
That was true, but they both knew that Miu wasn’t going to make it. If she was ever going to improve, she’d have done it by now. There was no hope for her.

“Yeah,” she said, feeling emptier than ever.

.

 

She was at Kaede’s house again. This had become a normal occurrence—they would go to Kaede’s house almost every evening. However, today Miu couldn’t focus on Danganronpa. Her teacher’s words still rung in her head, and she couldn’t shake the harsh emotions away.

Deciding not to push her problems away for once, Miu asked, “Akamatsu-san, you’re failing your classes, right?”  
  
Kaede glanced at her. “Yeah? So what?”  
  
Miu took a deep breath. “Do you have trouble like I do?”  
  
They shared a moment of silence before Kaede laughed. “Not at all. Those lessons are easy as hell. I just don’t want to bother with them. I don’t have time to spend on something as pointless as school. If I wanted to, I could sweep everyone away with my knowledge—but I don’t see why I should bother.”

Miu was stunned for a second. After a moment of contemplating what Kaede had just said, Miu questioned, “Are you saying that you’re choosing to fail?”  
  
“Yeah.”

“So you’re just throwing your life away?” Miu didn’t know when her voice began to raise, but it raised at some point. She clenched her fists, a newfound emotion running through her. “You’re just letting it all go to waste?”

“Hold up,” Kaede said, leaning away from her a bit. “You’re failing, too.”

“I don’t have the choice!” Miu yelled. “I _can’t_ do things right, no matter how hard I try. And here you are, screwing everything up by _choice_? I don’t think you know, but that’s like a slap in the face to me!”

Neither of them said anything for a long while. Miu’s head was racing— _what had she done_. Kaede was going to hate her. She’d really crossed the line this time. What they’d had was so fragile and breakable, and Miu shattered it with one outburst. She really was a screw—

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” Kaede admitted. “But you were really upset. You keep me entertained, you know that? Everytime I think I know you, you always manage to bring out a new side of you. You remind me of why Sayaka is my favorite character—she has a set personality, yet she has so many other dimensions to her. Like you.”

Miu closed her eyes. “Everyone is like that. _People_ are like that. You just hate everybody so much you choose not to see it.”  
  
“I don’t choose not to see anything,” Kaede defended herself. “If anything, I see too much of what people are _really_ like. You may be interesting, but you still can’t see through people like I can.”

And Miu believed her. Because Kaede was always right.

_She’s always right._

 

.

 

The atmosphere was different when Miu came home that night. Her parents were standing in the kitchen, solemn looks on their faces. There was no arguing. There was no yelling.  
  
“Honey,” her mother whispered as she walked into the kitchen, “we’re getting a divorce.”

Even though it had been coming for as long as she could remember—even if it was what was always doomed to happen—even if Miu couldn’t remember a time when any of them were happy—and even if it was for the best, Miu felt her entire world crumble.  
  
The first thing that came out of Miu’s mouth wasn’t, “Why?” It wasn’t, “Are you joking?” It wasn’t, “How could you guys be doing this to me?”  
  
It was, “How are you going to split the custody?”  
  
Surprised by Miu’s seemingly nonchalant attitude, her father answered, “Half and half. We agreed on it.”  
  
“Things will be okay,” her mother promised. “This—it… it’s for the best.”

Miu didn’t say anything.

 

.

 

“You look gloomy today,” Kaede noted. “Don’t tell me why. I don’t care. But I do know what’ll take that boring attitude away—Danganronpa. I can’t believe we’re finishing the second one so quickly. I thought that it would take longer for sure.”  
  
“It is entertaining,” Miu admitted. “I can barely look away from it.”

“Mm,” Kaede hummed. “Hey, Iruma, can I tell you something? I never thought I would tell anyone, but… I feel like I should tell you.”

“What is it?” Miu asked, fear gnawing at her. She didn’t think she could take another big announcement.

“I’m auditioning for Danganronpa.”

“... _What_?”

“You know the time I said that I was gonna die soon? I wasn’t kidding. I’m joining Danganronpa, and I don’t plan on surviving,” Kaede continued. “And you know how I don’t care about my life? This is why. Don’t you understand, now? There’s nothing in my life for me to care about.”

Miu didn’t know what came over her when she said, “What about me?”

“What..?”

“Aren’t we friends?” Miu whispered. “Are you just going to leave me behind like I’m nothing?”  
  
“Yes,” Kaede insisted. “Because you _are_ nothing. There’s nothing between us, Iruma. I don’t know what you think we have, but whatever it is, we _don’t_. And we never will. I don’t care about people. You included.”

“That’s not _true_ ,” Miu insisted. “There’s no way that after all this time you feel nothing towards me. You have to care, Kaede—you may be disappointed, and you may be bored, but you’re still human. You still feel emotions. I don’t know why you always pretend that you don’t!”

“Don’t fucking use my name,” Kaede spat. “Geez. I thought you understood me, but you’re just like everyone else, aren’t you? You get attached too easily.”  
  
“So you do,” Miu whispered. A few days ago, Miu would have never dared say it, but her entire life was in shambles. She had absolutely nothing to do. “You’re attached, and that’s why you’re pretending that you’re not.”

“I love Danganronpa,” Kaede murmured. “I _need_ to be a part of Danganronpa. Don’t you get that? And I don’t need some dumbass like _you_ to get in my—”

“Stop acting like you’re heartless!” Miu yelled. “You’re not… you’re not heartless. I don’t want to lose you, and I know that deep down you don’t want to lose me. Kaede, you have no reason to join Danganronpa other than your own selfish desires.”  
  
“Selfish…?” Kaede echoed.  
  
“You’re bored of life, but it’s your own fault,” Miu accused. “You _choose_ not to enjoy it. You’ve been given so many opportunities to change—to _live_ , but you’ve ignored every one of them.”

“If you’re so upset with the way I act, then why do you still hang around?” Kaede yelled, face contorting into an expression of pure anger.

“Because I _love_ you!” Miu screamed, clutching her heart.

Kaede fell silent.

“I don’t want to end up like my parents,” Miu whispered. “They hate each other so much. I want to be happy. Why can’t I just be _happy_?”

Kaede opened her mouth, then closed it again. Still, she remained silent.

Miu closed her eyes. “I hate my life. I can’t do this anymore. There’s nothing for me here.” After a beat, she added, “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? I’m joining Danganronpa, too.”

“Like hell you are,” Kaede spat. “You want to live a happy life, and you will. I’m different. That’s why I’m joining.”  
  
“I don’t want to live a happy life anymore,” Miu insisted. “I don’t want to live a life at all. I barely have one as it is. If I can join Danganronpa—if I can bring other people entertainment rather than sitting around and being useless, then I’ll do it.”  
  
“You’re the selfish one,” Kaede told her. “What about your parents? They love you. They’ll miss you.”

“So you do care?”  
  
“Of fucking course I care!” Kaede shouted, moving forward to punch Miu’s right cheek. “That’s why I _hate_ this so much! I’ve never cared about anybody else before until you came along. I didn’t want to become attached, and you fucked everything up! I don’t care about anyone _but_ you, and that’s what makes me sick!”

Her face stung from the punch, and she reeled back. Kaede punched her. _Kaede punched me._

Tears were running down her face faster than they ever had before. She didn’t even notice until they hit her shirt. “I can’t do this anymore, Kaede. My life’s a dead end.”  
  
“Of course it’s not,” Kaede insisted, “you can keep _going_.” She didn’t seem to give the punch a second thought.  
  
“Well, what if I don’t want to?” Miu clenched her fists, the pain on her right cheek still very, very evident. “What if I’m like you, and I just don’t want to anymore?”

Kaede ground out, “I don’t fucking care. Do what you like. I’m done with you.”

Everything that they’d ever built until that moment shattered in an instant.

 

.

 

Miu was supposed to turn eighteen in a few weeks. If she made it in, she’d be old enough by the time they’d get back to her to go in Danganronpa without her parents’ permission. _That’s only if I get in. Let’s pray I don’t screw that up, too._

“I made you breakfast,” her mother called from downstairs. Upon smelling her mother’s signature pancakes, Miu quickly made her way downstairs to see stacks of them already made.

“I know it’s not easy,” her mother admitted, “and I know that your father is moving out tomorrow, so… I think we could all use a nice breakfast in our lives. This is going to be hard, but I know that everything will be okay as long as I have you, Iruma. Throughout the years I spent living with your father miserably, one thing was always constant—I always had you. That alone is more than anyone could ever ask for.”

Miu smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

When she returned to her room that night, she cried. She cried, cried, and cried over the mother who she wouldn’t see again if she got in. But she wouldn’t back down. Not now.

Besides, if she made it far enough then her immediate family—her parents—would receive crazy amounts of money. Their financial situation was terrible, so she’d save them.

She’d have to save them.

 

.

 

The Danganronpa auditioning building was huge, and full of people, but they all had one thing in common—they all thought that they were someone special enough to get accepted. Maybe that was what would differentiate Miu from everyone else—she knew that she was nothing special. That’s why she wanted Danganronpa to _make_ her special.

“So you were serious,” an all too familiar voice that she hadn’t heard in a few weeks said behind her. She turned around to come face to face with Kaede Akamatsu.

“I was,” Miu confirmed, not knowing what else to say.

They were both quiet until Miu said, “you don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t have to fucking do anything,” Kaede agreed. “That’s because I want to. If you don't feel the same, then maybe you shouldn't be here.”

Miu’s eyes were stinging. “I love you.”

“Whatever,” Kaede brushed off, walking away. “I hope you don’t get accepted in. You’d be a disgrace to the show.”

Miu stifled a laugh. She wanted to laugh so, so badly—to mask the fact that she wanted to cry so, so badly. She could stand around and pity herself. She could stand around and mourn the relationship between Kaede and her that was doomed to fail from the very beginning. She could stand around and mull over everything that could have been in another world.

Or, she could go to her interview and get accepted so that she could finally, for once in her life, do something correctly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> there is literally 0 pre-game irumatsu content so Here I Am
> 
> ...i'm so sorry for this
> 
> to be honest, pre-game irumatsu could never really be happy. not with kaede lmao. i've been typing away at this for so long and i'm happy i was finally able to publish this before i die of sleep deprivation
> 
> thank you for reading!! all comments and kudos are appreciated


End file.
